


Remembrance

by Warthrop



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Ending, M/M, what if Ravus survived
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warthrop/pseuds/Warthrop
Summary: Prompto enjoys the days of peace but old habits die hard and he is unable to sleep because his mind keeps him awake. Under the night sky and in Insomnias light he recalls memories of how he went to Niflheim - and how he got to know Ravus Nox Fleuret.





	1. Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is a work between me and a friend who also wrote parts of it. I had a few theories about what happened to Prompto after Noctis fell unconscious on the train. What if he never was on the train but it was just an illusion all along, what if Prompto was at the station, held captive by Niflheim already and he made his escape there, going after his friends? Or if he was on the train, what happened to him after Ardyn tricked Noctis? What did he experience on his way, what happened to him in Gralea? And what happened to Ravus after Altissia? Starting with these we talked a bit until we came up with interactions between Ravus und Prompto and well... in the end, this ship happened. 
> 
> \- N

It was a restless night for him. Not because he was busy but because he couldn‘t fall asleep anymore. He felt the exhaustion of having barely slept but his mind kept racing. A bad habit he never got really rid of. With a silent groan he got up, put on a shirt and walked towards the balcony of his apartment.  
Prompto stood on the balcony, breathing in the cold air of the night. Insomnia was nearly back to its old self. Never asleep, always full of life and light. The daemons were gone, the war over and the people looked into a future they could built for themselfs. Though the newspapers still reported of incidents and political struggles it was by far not the horror they had faced during their war against Niflheim.  
He shifted a bit on his feet and folded his arms. It was more cold than he had expected it to be but he also didn‘t want to go back inside just yet. It was refreshing and somewhat comforting. The cold always reminded him of many things. Camping under the stars, the glacian. The fight that broke out on the train as they were on their way to Niflheim. How he got seperated from his friends due to Ardyns schemes. And how he met Ravus...

 

 _He remembered how he fell. He remembered the sound of the train passing by, the shaking. Prompto had noticed that something was wrong, terribly wrong. He managed to confront Ardyn and pulled his gun on him, ready to shoot him right there but as Noctis leaped on him Prompto realized that this has just been an elaborate trap._ Too late. _His friend - in an attempt to save him - fell for Ardyns trap and hit Prompto instead. He didn‘t remember much after. Only the shock and disbelief, the anger how Ardyn could dare to toy with them like that, the pain from the fall. Whether due to luck or something else Prompto wasn‘t seriously harmed. His whole body was aching but nothing seemed broken or too hurt, his feelings aside. But he was alone. No sight of the train, even in the distance._  
Alone.  


_He shuddered, partly because of the cold, partly because of the realization that he got seperated from the others. Panic welled up in him, his breath quickened, he looked around, desperately searching for a hint where he was, anything he could use, something he could work with. He let out a short gasp and searched for his phone and made a sound that was close to a whimper as he found it busted. It wasn‘t completely broken but heavily cracked and he was sure without proper maintenance it wouldn‘t turn on back again so soon. So calling them wasn‘t an option. Great, just great. Prompto kept looking around. There had to be_ something _that could help him._  
_The rails. Definitely the rails. He could follow them, sure. But he could only follow them that much. It was a risk. He didn‘t know what he could expect. Any settlements? A place to hide at night from the daemons? Prompto would fight them if he had to, nothing would stop him from getting back to his friends but he had to be realistic. Blindly following the rails was suicide. Eventually night would come. Eventually the daemons would become too much for him to fend off alone. Alone..._  


_Prompto shook his head to chase away the thought. Wasn‘t the Empire following them? He remembered the airships above the train. Maybe that was just what he needed. Going to Gralea by foot wasn‘t an option. Hitching a ride with an airship or another vehicle didn‘t sound that bad. But now how was he supposed to kidnap an airship or the like from the Empire all by himself?_  
_It was no use to stand around pondering his option. The cold started to get the better of him already. He needed to move if he wanted to have a chance to see his friends again_

_Following the railway back to the stations they have passed wasn‘t an option. Nifs everywhere. Presenting himself on a tray to them would have been less obvious. No, heading on was the right way. Even if the only things he could see at this moment were the endless railways and the even more endless seeming wood. High pine and spruce trees in different shades of dark and light green everywhere._  
_The ground under his feet as he was dragging along was hard and the cold sunk in through his boots. Probably because the temperatures dropped under the freezing point at night around here. And Prompto didn’t even had a jacket with him. His bare arms were already decorated with goosebumps and they would definitely not get any warmer as the temperatures were dropping lower. He cursed himself quietly while moving on. Why had he never really listened to Gladio when he was explaining things about hiking and survival in the wild? Hell, if he would smoke he could at least make a fire with a lighter if he didn’t find any shelter before dawn. But no, he doesn’t know how to strike a spark from dry wood, doesn’t know how to keep himself warm when the night would tumble over him._  


_Rubbing his fingers over his upper arms the thought dawned him that if he wouldn’t die of undercooling or daemons in the dark, he would probably lose some of his toes to the cold. Or eartips. Or his nose! Shit, he really had to find shelter quick._  
_Prompto was exhausted from walking and his legs hurt when the sun already started to set down at the horizon. Red and golden light illuminated the trees and ground and dyed the rails in a bronze hue. It would have been lovely if he would have stopped for a moment to inhale this beauty. But his pulse was rapid, and his breathing shaky. He tried to ignore his burning throat and the sting in his eyes. The cold had numbed his fingers, arms and toes but he couldn’t care less. The setting sun meant that daemons would come out any minute – And he was alone with only a little flashlight, a gun with not enough ammunition and no curatives with him. No friends out here. No Gladio to hide behind, no Ignis that would pat his back and help him up, no Noctis hat would cover him if he would stumble. Prompto was scared, very scared, because since they had left Insomnia he had never been alone in the darkness._  


_The shadows of the trees grew larger and darker. There was no end to these damned woods in sight. Prompto could see the first stars on a purple-blue sky, the moon behind some clouds. He didn’t wanted to think about the daemons coming out any minute or how blue his fingers looked. He wouldn’t die today, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t. He needed to get back to his friends. He – almost stumbled over a loose root in the twilight. Barely catching himself he stopped for a second. A root this close to the rails? He inspected the tripping hazard a little closer and noticed that it actually had been a big chunk of metal buried a bit in the hard ground. Wait, he knew this metal. This color and thickness was almost identically to the ones the Nifs used for their airships._   


_With the flashlight illuminating the trees he searched around and actually found more pieces of broken metal. He followed the trail with a glimpse of hope. Hope for what? He didn’t know. Maybe a sign of a fight? Maybe a dead MT, showing damage from Nocts warp blade? A little sign of his friends fighting back Ardyn and the trap he had layed out for them? Instead he found the remains of a crashed Niflheim airship._  
_Explosions had done a good job in rendering it useless but it was just what he needed right now. Pieces of MTs were scattered inside and outside, some still in their seats - or at least the parts the belts held in place. He examined the interior as best as he could with his small flashlight. This thing wouldn‘t fly anymore but he could make out small storages. Promptos breath was heavy and shaking. They must have supplies here. Those airships weren‘t just operated by MTs._  


_A rush of excitement, adrenaline and hope rushed through him. This was his chance. He grabbed the plates which seemed to cover the storages and pulled them off. Thanks to the crash some of them loosened easily whilest others seemed to be irreversibly wedged. Fire and explosions had rendered most of the stuff he found useless. But he found another gun and more importantly a good stock of ammunition for it. In the repository under the seats he even found a jacket. It smelled awfully burned like the most of the stuff inside of there was. It was cold and heavy but better than anything he had right now. Better. Much better. Ammunition and clothing. But venturing through the night just with this would still be suicide. He had to calm down. He wanted to get back to Noct as fast as possible. He wanted Ignis cooking and lectures and never did he long this much for Gladios teasing. Prompto missed his friends and the safety he felt when he was with them._   


_He needed rest and he needed something to fight the cold. Fire. He needed fire. Prompto looked around and walked out of the wreck again. This was an airship and if he was lucky there was still some petrol. And by the astrals he was lucky. Prompto used the torn and ruined uniform he found to soak up the petrol and formed a makeshift campfire with these rags and wood. He wasn‘t sure whether it would work but he would be damned if he didn‘t at least try. The sky was dark by now and his flashlight his only source of light. There was barely any wind what made the silence just more eery. No daemons yet. Prompto pat hismelf down until he felt a tiny flask. Noctis‘ magic. He always left it to him and Ignis and he felt like crying for the trust his friend put into him and how this trust saved his life right now. He brought a but of distance between himself and the hopefully-soon-campfire and took a deep breath before he threw the flask onto it. It broke easily - it actually amazed him that it survived his fall - and the fire magic broke free, instantly eating on the oil and spreading on to the wood. After the initial big flame it died down to a small fire but it was everything he needed. Prompto had to suppress a cheer but for the first time since many hours he smiled. A glimpse of hope. He propped up some of the bigger metal covers he yanked off the storages earlier to protect the fire and himself from the wind. Prompto sat down close to it and leaned against the inner wall of the airship. The warmth of the fire spread through him slowly but to him it felt like heaven. He watched the flames dance as he tried not to think too much about what could have happened to his friends. Prompto tried to relax at least a little upon feeling the warmth. They were alright. They must be alright. They were strong and they have eachother. And soon he would be together with them again._

 

He heard a noise behind him, tired steps but he didn‘t even have to look to know who it was. He would always approach him from the left and put a tired warm arm around him, leaning slightly against him, avoiding the touch of the cold metal of his right arm on skin. He was more considerate than one would think at times. Ravus murmured something tired and unintelligible and ended in a yawn before he pulled Prompto closer against him. The blonde could hear a soft sigh as Ravus put his hand on his arm, slowling drawing it up and down to warm Promptos skin. „You are cold.“, he said with a slightly scolding tone, eyes still half-lidded, hair disheveled. Though the temperatures in Insomnia were often warm during the day they tended to drop harshly in the night. Still Ravus didn‘t care enough apparently. Despite his worried tone he stood himself only in sweatpants, completely undisturbed by the cold air. Prompto turned around slowly to look at him. Sometimes he still wondered how everything lead to this. To Ravus Nox Fleuret. The lights of the city and the stars were bright enough to illuminate his face. He could make out the odd eyes. Prompto only mentioned it once to him. Ravus was aware of their appearance and how they and his arm were a proof of his own foolishness and arrogance. But he was prideful and bringing it up always felt like a scolding.  


Prompto chuckled and put a hand on Ravus‘ cheek. The silver-haired man closed his eyes and leaned into the touch like an overgrown cat. A white tiger perhaps. Promptos gaze fell to his shoulder, the scars and metallic arm. He was the one maintaining it for Ravus, having done some improvements in the past. He had scoffed when he saw what a poor job Niflheim had done back then when he took it apart for the first time. Sure, an artifical arm _was_ a masterpiece. But the material had scratches and even slight dents. It wasn‘t meant to last in heavy battles. It has been decoration at best. Niflheim hadn‘t planned Ravus survival in the first place.  
„Don‘t tell me you got up because you think about another upgrade?“  
Ravus‘ voice startled him slightly and he looked up at him again. His gaze was sceptical and worried at the same time. He certainly wouldn‘t be surprised if this was the cause for Promptos insomnia but he also felt like this wasn‘t everything to it.  
Prompto shook his head. „No, nothing like that.“ He kept his tone playful. There was no reason to worry. He let his hand slide down the cold metal, feeling joints of his hand before taking it into his own and leading him back inside again. Ravus was sure to follow him and out the blanket over Prompto as he laid back down. The cold had helped him to clear his head some. And Ravus‘ warmth helped him to relax.


	2. Whistling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flickering halogen light greeted him back, without warmth or comfort. At least he was in Gralea now, right? He only had to find a way now to---
> 
> „Comfortable?“

Prompto had grown used to Ravus at his side in their shared bed. Always warm and inviting and way too gentle when he kissed him good-night. Prompto didn’t like to sleep alone anymore. Whenever Ravus or himself were away on a mission he remembered how cold the night could be. How lonely and lost he could still feel. It had been quite some time that he had actually been stranded in the dark. Vulnerable and alone. But when he closed his eyes and was kept in solitude with his thoughts, it all came back. 

 

***

 

Prompto had only little rest. The night succumbed him occasionally to doze off and even sleep for some time but he always woke up after a little while. Sometimes because of the snap of the wood burning in his fire, sometimes because he thought he had heard a deamon or a distant voice but it had always been his imagination running wild.

He lost track of time. Every time he woke up from the short naps his anxiety allowed him, he had hope that the sun would already been up. The only light however was his dimming fire. It was still in the middle of the night. No daemons in sight so far, which was good. And the fire keeping the cold at bay so he could recover some strength; also very good.

The sudden noise he heard in the distance however was the pure opposite. Not so good. Oh, how could he ever not recognize the sound of an approaching Nif airship. He prayed that it might be Aranea jumping to his rescue or even Noctis who had captured a ship to come to Promptos aid. _Safe Prompto pronto!_ ; saying something cheesy like that when he would jump down. But well. Prompto had never been the lucky kind of guy.

He jumped up and snuffed the fire out with his foot as quickly as he could. He already heard the metallic clatter and rattling of the MTs coming into position. He took cover behind his shelter, counting his enemies and the ammo he had. It would be enough but he had to make his shots count. Easier said than done in this darkness. He didn’t want to point his flashlight directly towards them because that would lure them into his direction. But what other choice did he have? Those MTs surely haven’t landed to enjoy the nightly landscape or go for a stroll. Maybe Promptos fire had caught their attention from above? Maybe they were scanning the area where Prompto had fallen off, hoping they could take out one of Nocts men while he was alone? It didn’t matter. If they wanted to kill him, Prompto wouldn’t go without a fight.

The MTs were standing on the same spot they had landed for several minutes, illuminated by the airship that hovered over them and their bizarre glowing eyes. They rattled again and all of them turned towards the wreck Prompto was hiding in. Shit. Now or never.

Prompto tried to point his flashlight the same way as the muzzle of his gun. Bam! The first went down with a clean headshot. Another struggled when Prompto hit his neck and one got knocked down with two shots to his legs. Strangely enough they didn‘t start to fire back at him. Some of them had precision guns, others blades, axes or daggers – but none of the MTs drew their weapons. Prompto kept shooting at them whilst maintaining distance. One after the others got knocked out as they approached him but his shots were messy in the darkness. Some MTs only crumbled down for some seconds just to build themselves up again to continue their walk towards Promptos position. Why didn’t they shoot? Some MTs crawled along the ground, heaving forward without legs like weird robotic zombies. Others leaned their bodies forward and suddenly started sprinting. _Shit!_

Prompto yanked away from his cover and started to run as well. He couldn’t stay close to the railway; they would see and find him easily there. But running head on into the woods in the middle of the night? Well, maybe better to die that way than getting slashed up by MTs.  
Prompto didn’t come far. He was running through bushes that scratched open his skin, almost falling over roots or uneven ground just to be greeted by another bluish white light. Another airship was floating in the sky just some meters away from him, dropping down more MTs. They didn’t idle this time. Instead they kept head on pursuing Prompto, running far more smoothly through this unkindly terrain than he did.

Prompto still tried to outrun them. His lungs burned and he had lost his orientation, not knowing if he was running further away from the railways or closer. It didn’t matter. His sheer instincts had kicked in and kept him on flight. He ran heads on into a rifle butt and got knocked to the ground. He felt pain in his forehead, dizziness, the coldness of the solid frozen earth underneath him before everything went black.  
The engine of the airship was purring like a loud, angry cat and it felt like it was drilling into his head. His head hurt so much. Like someone had knocked him out with a hammer to his temple. Or a rifle butt, which, well, had actually happened. He was sure he even bled. Some dark drops splattered the collar of the jacket he was wearing.  
When he was looking up he saw the MTs sitting perfectly still in their places, their metal faces staring nowhere. An eerie sight for Prompto. Looking further around he summarized his situation: He was in an Niflheim airship, surrounded by emotionless MTs, his head was bleeding, his hands were tied behind his back to the hull of the ship or his seat. He couldn’t tell for sure, but they didn’t give him much options to move. His legs on the other hand weren’t bound but he doubted he could do much harm with them to anyone. His gun wasn’t anywhere in sight, which wasn’t surprising at all. If he was honest.  
He heard the static of the speakers as they turned on, then a voice. A soft voice which sounded playful, poisonous and like tar. He wasn’t happy about its amused tone at all.  


„How does our guest enjoy his voyage to Gralea?“

Prompto bit on his lower lip in anger. Ardyn. The one who had hurt Luna, hurt Noctis. The one whose fault everything of this was: That he was separated from his friends, that he couldn’t contact them, that Noctis had attacked him. His breath got shaky and he started twitching in his seat, his shackles rattling because of the movement. Prompto felt the urge to punch something, punch Ardyn or at least land his fists in one of the MTs. Though that would most likely only damage his own hand. He was powerless and thus the only answer Ardyn got from Prompto was silence.

„I hope you didn’t catch a cold out there. It took us too longer than expected to find you. Even though we were usually able to track you down quite easily... “

Wait. Previously?  
Prompto looked up, his brows furrowed. What was this trickster saying? He continued speaking as if he was in the airship with him. Damn, were there cameras somewhere?!

„Oh my, you must be confused. You didn‘t notice? Poor boy...“, a deep chuckle followed.

Prompto growled in frustration. What did he mean with that?! Tracking him down previously? More than once?! That made no sense, the only time the Niflheim airships approached him was---

That was when it clicked. 

Tracking him down.

Quite easy. Quite frequently. 

Promptos eyes widened in shock. His mouth felt dry and his chest too tight too breath. The airships. All these airships the Nifs sent after them. Was that all because...? But how?

Again the disgustingly sweet voice spoke as if he was right there with him.

„You know where you are from. You know that very very well. Do you really think this has all been a coincidence?“

This couldn‘t be true.

„Of course you don‘t know anymore how you came to Insomnia. But that doesn‘t matter now anyway.“

This must be a lie.

„Quite the nifty invention this chip. No matter the distance or other circumstances we were always able to get your exact location. I‘m truly grateful for your loyalty towards the prince.“

A lie.

„But is the prince also loyal to you?“

What?

„Will the prince come to save his loyal retainer and good friend?“

Of course!

„Or will he sacrifice him to stop this what you all call madness? I’m sure it will be quite the spectacle.“

Prompto had enough. He growled and pulled on his shackles, tried to free him, tried to do _something_ but it was no use. The metal wouldn‘t budge the slightest.  
Minutes passed, filled with his grunting, with the metallic rattle and frustrated groans until he fell back into his seat again. He was tired and worn out. He didn’t have the energy to keep on trying to free himself.  
Instead he swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. His lungs were burning, the airship was too small, not enough room to breathe. He felt like crying. It must have been a lie. But what if it wasn‘t? What if Noctis, Gladio and Ignis have all been in danger because he was with them? He kept telling himself that it must be another of Ardyns schemes but he couldn‘t convince himself completely.  
A small transmitter. A chip. Didn’t he have a strange bump on his back somewhere? Surely Niflheim was able to produce something like that already more than a decade ago. And it was true that he didn‘t have any memory of how he came to Insomnia. He didn’t know why he got into custody of his parents. So many holes in his life. Could Ardyn actually tell the truth?  
Prompto shook his head and forced himself to breath calm. No. He needed to stop thinking about that. For now, at last. He wouldn‘t find answers in this flying piece of metal anyway. What mattered right now was that he was on the way to Gralea. Gralea where Noctis, Gladio and Ignis were. Somehow he would get back to them.

The airship was descending smoothly. He had thought that MTs were only made to kill but the ones on this ship seemed different. They freed him from his seat but kept his hands shackled. For a brief moment he thought about making the run for it but seeing that he was surrounded by at least ten of these bastards and remembering his headache he didn‘t dare to. Instead he followed them into some kind of... base? Prompto looked up and around him. They were in the middle of the city but this place was just a huge block of cement and functionality. Nothing pretty to look at. Almost no windows or doors, everything highly guarded. It even had a dock for the smaller Niflheim airships. He knew Niflheim was all about military but this - in their capital? This was crazy.  
And the city was way too quiet, too. He heard machines everywhere, whirring of impulse drives, clatter of metal on metal. He could hear their uniform steps echoing, his own dragging behind but he heard nothing else. No voices. No gunshots. Just lifeless machines in a dark surrounding.

He wondered where they were taking him but he didn‘t have to wait long. They led him down an elevator, through a long and cold hallway to a door. In front of it his shackles got unlocked. He was about to turn around, maybe knock one over if he could land a decent punch and resist as best as he could but the door already opened and they pushed him inside. Prompto landed rather inelegant on his hands and knees and the door already closed before he could even think about getting up again. With a long groan he let himself fall on his back, arms and legs stretched away from him and staring at the ceiling. A flickering halogen light greeted him back, without warmth or comfort. At least he was in Gralea now, right? He only had to find a way now to---

„Comfortable?“

A voice startled Prompto and he instantly jerked up again. He looked into the corner the voice came from and gasped in disbelief.  
He knew that guy! They had met him once, when they destroyed one of the bases of the Imperials. What was his name again? Something with R… Lunas Brother. Right: Ravus Nox Fleuret.  
And he had definitely seen better days. But what was he doing here? Shouldn‘t he get executed for what had happened in Altissia? The radio had blared about his treachery all the time and the newspapers were full of speculations about his motivation. Was that why he was here? Ouch. Shit. Does that mean this was the cell for people on a death sentence?!

Ravus brows raised slightly but otherwise he looked unimpressed. „You look as if you are seeing a ghost. Have they declared me dead already?“

Prompto couldn‘t believe how calm he was. Or at least his voice was calm. No. No that wasn‘t it. He didn‘t sound calm he... it was defeat. As Prompto looked closely he noticed it. The spark and cold fire that has been in his eyes when they first met at that base was gone. Instead his eyes looked dark and empty. It was a look of utter and complete defeat. Just what had happened to this proud man?

A sigh broke the silence. „Cat got your tongue? Great.“ Ravus looked as if he bit on something bitter, then turned around again to stare at whatever he must have looked before. And glancing around the room it couldn‘t have been much. Metal walls in a horrible greyish green that would definitely not get featured in any of these fancy furnishing magazines. There were beds, maybe for guards, made of metal pipes and wire. A table, two chairs. Cold hard metal, too. And another door in the direction Ravus stared at. But the light next to the scanpad was glowing red just like the one which had closed as he got pushed into this room. And seeing that Ravus was still here he assumed it meant that the door was locked.

Prompto stumbled on his feet and looked around more until his eyes fell on Ravus again. His clothes were more grey than white and tattered around the edges. He was probably wearing this outfit for a longer period of time than it was actually healthy. He had dark bags under his eyes, a bloody, chipped lip and disheveled hair. His metallic arm showed signs of combat. Prompto noticed that one of the fingers looked a little out of place, crooked, as if he couldn’t move it back into the fist he was holding. Deep dents and slashes decorated the metal, making it blunt and corroded.  
A tiny gasp escaped Prompto as he saw King Regis‘ sword still at Ravus‘ side. So they hadn‘t taken that from him. The sound was enough to draw Ravus attention once more. He turned again towards Prompto.

“What?”, he asked.  
“The sword. You still have it. Why do you still have it? Why haven’t they taken it from you?” Prompto found his voice again.  
Ravus seemed a little taken back by the accusation he had in his tone. But his surprise was soon followed by anger. His mouth hard and teeth pressed together, he answered flat: “To mock me.”  
Now this took Prompto by surprise. “What? Why?”  
“Because-“ Ravus took a deep breath; to calm himself and his voice. “Because I wasn’t able to stop them. I wasn’t able to fight them off and flee. I wasn’t able to protect Luna. The power of kings was not mine to have.” He rose his metal arm, shaking his fingers as if he was holding a worthless piece of junk. “And I wasn’t the one to wield this sword. It was no use to me. And so they left it in my care. A useless sword for a useless pawn of the empire.”  


Prompto looked at Ravus with a mixed feeling of pity and satisfaction. He remembered what he had done and he couldn‘t deny that back then he wished harm on him. But hearing his voice filled with regret - hearing the pain when he mentioned Luna - he couldn‘t get himself to despise this man. To protect Luna. Was this what everything has been about for him? Seeing Luna save? Prompto could relate to that in some way. He too would give everything to know his friends save and sound.  
„You are not useless.“, Prompto said. Ravus didn‘t even look up this time. Prompto just stood there and kept looking at him. He wanted to say something to make Ravus snap out of this state. But what? He didn‘t know this man at all. Had Ardyn tried his mindgames on him, too? Ravus has been with Niflheim since twelve years. Was Ardyn playing his mindgames with him for so long? Was Ardyn part of the reason he resented king Regis and Noctis this much?  
„We need to get this sword to Noctis.“  


He still didn‘t look up but at least he got a reply. „And how? As you may have noticed we are locked up in here. And if you don‘t happen to have explosives with you we won‘t make it out of here that easily.“  
Prompto sighed and looked around. There had to be something they could do. He wouldn‘t accept to just sit here and wait for his end. He started to walk around the room. The size made him uncomfy. He wasn‘t claustrophobic but right now he got a good hunch how it must be to be this way. Everything felt too small in here. Walls too near, not enough air to breathe and the temperature rising in the room and inside of him as well. Too hot in here. He got rid of the smelly jacket he had found in the airship and threw it on one of the chairs.  
Whistling helped a little to distract himself and calm his racing mind. He needed to focus. And he didn‘t notice how Ravus started watching him. Prompto started fiddling with his clothes. He pulled lose strings, tapped off dirt and smoothed wrinkles. He toyed absently with his wristbands, fixing the bandana he had wrapped around his upper arm while walking from one end of the room to the other. He was looking at the door which Ravus had focused before as he heard the sound of rustling cloth. Confused he turned around. What had caught this mans attention enough that he went from half-dead and unmoving to... wait, he was walking towards Prompto with a strange determination in his eyes. Did he snap? Has the whistling been too much? Did he get the tunes wrong? Oh hell, was he going nuts? Would he strangle Prompto really over some wrong notes?  


„That‘s how they did it. Why would they let you…? Never mind. Maybe it will work...“, he heard Ravus mutter. Once again Prompto didn‘t even have the time to react. Ravus grabbed Prompto by the wrist and pulled him towards the door. He yelped because of the pain the tight grip Ravus‘s metal arm caused but instantly fell silent as the door actually opened as Ravus held Promptos wrist in front of it.

No. This couldn‘t be true. Could it? 

Ravus let go of his wrist and stepped outside - just to find himself in yet another room. No beds but apparently just a simple storage room. He groaned and turned around - and looked confused at the startled Prompto. He dared to look down on his wrist slowly. The tattoo. It opened the door. How? And why? This couldn’t be possible. No. No no no no. It was just a tattoo, just ink under skin. It shouldn’t be more. It shouldn’t open doors.  
And then again, this voice. His horrible damned voice purring like a lazy cat: „So do you believe me now?“ 

Both of them looked up. Prompto lost and in disbelief. Ravus in cold anger. Both didn‘t say a thing.  
„I‘m so sorry to disappoint you two. Of course I wanted this dear little boy to see what he was capable of. Isn’t it nice? Your own little access code to everything here in Gralea, because, guess what, this is where you come from, where your purpose lies and where you belong. Of course your code only works where I want it to work. So maybe you should really cooperate; It could literally open doors for you.” Ardyn laughed about his own pun. Of course he thinks he’s so funny. Prompto on the other end stood in shock and started to feel nauseaous. 

“But I hope you will enjoy your treasure of blankets.“ He heard a laugh again, then silence.  
Prompto looked back at his wrist. Niflheim. So he was one of them. He was a Nif. Sworn enemy of Lucis. A traitor. This was his home, his origin. He didn’t belong in Insomnia. He didn’t belong with Noct.  
Prompto felt his throat getting tight, his heart was burning in agony. His hands and breath were shaky. He felt like the walls would collapse around him any minute.  
„Snap out of it.“, he heard a rough voice, sounding distant but loud at the same time. Footsteps approached him and a cold and a warm hand were grabbing his shoulders, shaking him slightly until he looked up to the taller man. Odd eyes. One light and grey, a hint of silver in the dim light. The other the color of the decoration of the metal arm, dark and with a purple hue. What had caused this?, Prompto wondered for a second. Was he born like this? Luna also had grey eyes, didn’t she? Rare, isn’t it? 

“Hey. Snap out of it.”, Ravus repeated while still shaking Prompto lightly.  
But Prompto couldn’t. He stared at Ravus and his thoughts were circling around Luna and Altissa, about how he had failed Noctis there. How he had failed him in the train. Maybe even before. All the Niflheim ships that had found them on their travel, the danger, the fights, the wounds. All his fault.

“Hey, you, boy – What’s your name? Hey.” Ravus was still holding onto his shoulders but didn’t shake him anymore.  
Prompto blinked twice and then opened his mouth. First gasping silent, blinking again, then quietly: “Prompto.”, he said, “That’s my name.”  
“Prompto. Very well. Listen to me. He is a trickster. He lies. Don’t listen to Ardyn.” Ravus voice was low now, too. Maybe he thought Ardyn wouldn’t hear them when they weren’t talking too loud. He didn’t avert his gaze from Prompto though. “Don’t let it get to you. Try to block it out.”

Prompto hung his head and let his shoulders drop,but not rejecting when Ravus was still holding onto them. “Easier said than done. It adds up. Everything he said.”  
“It doesn’t.” Ravus said, brows furrowed. Ironic, wasn’t it? A minute ago Prompto was the one that wanted to cheer up Ravus and now the tables had turned. “It’s coincidence and nothing more.”  
“But he said I had a chip in me.” Prompto whined now. He lifted his arm and showed Ravus his wrist; the ugly black barcode on his skin. The markings of a traitor. “You know how to use it! So it must be true. I am from Niflheim. I brought danger on Noctis, I am the enemy.”

“Don’t be stupid now.” Ravus let go of Promptos shoulders, shaking his head in disbelief. “Even if you have a chip within you, you are not Prince Noctis’ enemy. You are not a traitor if you didn’t know about all this.”  
“But I knew something was wrong with me.” Prompto sighed, stroking his thumb over the tattoo. “They must have sent me to Insomnia to get close to Noct for keeping advantage.”  
“Nonsense. Even Niflheim wouldn’t be able to train a child to be a sleeper agent.” Ravus breathed in deeply, looked at the blankets in the storage room and back to the corner from where they came from. He waltzed back, nodding at Prompto to make sure he followed. Prompto did and understood what Ravus intended to try: He stood before the other locked door, waiting for Prompto to try his wrist-tattoo-key-thingi on it. As both expected, it only gave a disappointing beep and remained shut.  
“Worth a try.” Prompto said, scratching himself at the neck. “And what are we gonna do now?”

Ravus looked down and went back into the room. He slumped down on one of the chairs at the table and looked defeated up at the ceiling. “I don’t know about you.”, he said while closing his eyes. “But I will wait till they fetch me and kill me.”  
“What a lovely ray of sunshine you are.”, Prompto grumbled and sat on one of the bunkbeds next to him. Maybe Ravus admitted defeat; but Prompto wouldn’t bend so easily to this situation. Somehow, he would think of a way to escape. He just needed some rest, clearing his head. He would find a way. He would, he would, he would. 

He just needed some sleep first. It came easy on a slightly more comfortable bedding than outside in the wilderness. He had only kicked off his boots and lay down on his back, facing the upper bunk, when his eyes grew tired. He didn’t even care for Ravus in that moment when he dozed off into a deep slumber. He slept peaceful, actually. Which surprised him when he woke up.  
He felt refreshed and ready to start the day; until the realization that he was still held captive in an uncomfortable metal room without windows hit him like a truck. Halogen light still shimmered above him, he heard the blood rushing through his veins and someone breathing. Ah right, that dude, Ravus. 

Prompto turned his head, yawning and looking at him. He was still sitting at the desk; his coat was hanging behind him on the backrest. His white shirt was stained, crumbled and gave the silhouette of a men once strong and now way too thin already. How long was he in here already? He was staring down on his hands, perfectly still.

“Morning.” Prompto yawned again, stretching out a bit but still lounging in the bed. “Or evening. I have no idea what time it is.” And he didn’t have a watch since his phone was broken.  
“Mh.” Ravus just gave a small hum. Whatever he was holding in his hands, he put it back in his pocket to turn his gaze towards Prompto. He had a really piercing stare. Prompto felt a little bit judged by him. But that was probably just his imagination.  
“Do you know what time it is?”, Prompto asked but Ravus just shook his head.

“No. I lost track of time. I don’t have a watch.” Ravus said, looking back at the door. “Do you know the date when you came in here?”  
Prompto sighed and thought about it. It was yesterday, when he fell from the train, wasn’t it? Or was it already the day before yesterday? It was hard to tell how much time had passed without the sun rising and setting. “It should be the seventeenth or eighteenth sun of the fifth umbral moon.” Prompto finally said, still thinking about if it was correct or not.  
Ravus eyes grew wide. “Over a month.” Oh goodness, really?

Puzzled, Prompto watched how Ravus sunk back in his chair. He didn’t know what to say. Hey, cheer up, at least they are not in a hurry to kill you.? Maybe he should try to distract him?  
“Uhm, hm, what were you looking at before?”, he asked, lacking a better topic to start a conversation over.  
Ravus eyes found its way back to Prompto, seemingly not approving that he had seen what he had seen. “A picture.”, was the short answer.  
“Of whom? Your girl?”, he wanted to sound casual but Ravus frowned upon him.

“Of my sister.”

“Oh.” Prompto cleared his throat and scratched himself at the neck. He wriggled his toes and caught the blanket, he had forgotten to cover himself with, with them. “Can I see?”, he asked quietly, not sure if it was the right topic to press on. But Ravus obeyed. He got the picture out of his pocket; a crumbled and old photograph, the colors washed out. It showed Luna as a girl, smiling in the camera while holding two small dogs. Oh, Chibi! Prompto smiled at the picture.  
“I know that dog.”, he said, sighing at the thought of the time back then. “Ah, man, I always wished for siblings.”, he spoke without thought. Ravus eyed him questioningly. Well, at least the distraction had worked.  
“You are a strange companion of Prince Noctis.” Ravus stated and crossed his arms before his chest. “So, what are you to the prince? Another advisor like that Ignis? You don’t seem a bodyguard like Gladiolus.” Ravus eyed him up and down, probably referring to Promptos lack of bulky muscle and body height. 

“Hey! I might be smaller but I can outrun Gladio at any time.” Prompto protested – truthfully! Gladio was strong but Prompto was quick and a trained runner. And if necessary he could lift heavy blasters, too!  
“Bull’s eye. No bodyguard. And you lack the composure of an advisor.” Wait, what? Rude! “Or am I wrong?”  
“No.” Prompto grumbled. He sat up on his bed, dangling his feet in the air but crossing his arms. He pouted a little while Ravus was still examining him.  
“And you have Niflheim origins. A spy? No, wait you didn’t know about it.” Now he was throwing around wild guesses. “So tell me, what was your role in the Citadel?”  
Prompto blinked at him and shrugged. “None. I didn’t live there.”

“What was it then?” He seemed troubled about the fact that he didn’t know where to peg him. “The Empire seems to have plans with you and the King trusted you enough to sent you off with Noctis.”  
“Well, I am Noctis’ friend?” Prompto explained. “We know each other from school. We became friends there and after a while I picked up gun training because Ignis advised me to.”  
“And?” Ravus had raised his brows questioning, as if he expected another conclusion to this story.  
“And what? That’s the story.”, Prompto said, shrugging again.

“The king sent off his only son and heir with two incompetent and not fully trained protectors and an even more unfitting pleb?” Well, now he surely sounded like a big asshole!  
Prompto bristled with anger and pressed his teeth together. “I might be unfitting but Ignis and Gladio surely aren’t. Don’t speak about them like this.” He sighed. “And it wasn’t planned like this. It was supposed to be a road trip, a funny adventure. I certainly didn’t sign up to get caught by Nifs.”

Ravus bowed his head, clenching his fists in a slow motion. “I am sorry, I spoke inappropriate.” His voice was calm again. He waited for several quiet seconds, before it was his turn to get the conversation back going.  
“How did you got to know Noctis then?”, Ravus asked, sincere interested.  
“Well, actually, funny story and your sister is part of it, too.” Prompto began to talk; better to have someone here to speak with instead of being alone with his thoughts. He had never told this story to anyone else besides Noctis so maybe it would be a good start to finally do it. And maybe Ravus would open up more if he knew that Prompto was fond of his sister and had to thank her that he had built up the courage to speak to Noctis and found his best friend in him.

 

***

 

When Prompto woke up, Ravus was still sleeping at his side. One arm still resting on Prompto, as if he didn’t dare to let him go. He was shifting closer, nudging his face in the chest before him and sighing with joy. Warm and nice smelling, what a wonderful start in a new day. They would dress, eat breakfast and kiss for departure with the certainty to be in each other’s arms again in the evening. A good certainty, a good routine.  
Prompto didn’t dare to think about what would have happened if back then would have gone any differently. No sun ever again, no Noctis, no future, no Ravus.


End file.
